


You're Welcome, Tosh

by amyfortuna



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Canon-Compliant, Exhibitionism, F/M, Handsome Man Saves Me, Masturbation, Unequal Balance of Power, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:00:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone asked Tosh what her relationship was with Jack, she would have to say "It's complicated," but no one ever does. This is the story of that relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Welcome, Tosh

When Tosh joined Torchwood and followed Jack, blinking, out of the UNIT holding facility, where she would live and what she would be paid were the last things on her mind. Jack gave her approximately thirty minutes' worth of car ride to just enjoy feeling the breeze, seeing trees, being alive and free.

"We're going to Cardiff," he said, watching her carefully from the driver's seat. "I have a flat ready for you, fully furnished."

She turned to look at him, eyes wide. "I get a flat? Aren't you worried about me, I don't know, trying to run off or something?"

"There are certain…security measures I've had to take, Toshiko," he said. "I'll explain in further detail once we get there."

She went back to looking out the window, a thoughtfully happy expression on her face. Jack started to say something more, then decided against it. Let her enjoy being free for a while, before she learned how restricted this freedom would be.

She turned back to him again just as they were driving into Cardiff. "I never asked. What do I call you?"

He blinked in surprise. "I never said. I'm Jack. Captain Jack Harkness."

"Nice name," she said softly.

"I picked it 'cause I liked it," he responded with a wink.

* * *

The flat was in the Bay area, within easy walking distance of Roald Dahl Plass. Tosh followed Jack in and stopped still, looking around. "But this is far too nice," she said softly, taking in the dark grey slate of the kitchen floor, the granite worktop, the space and size of the place. "I thought it was going to be just a small place."

Jack turned back toward her and took her hand. "Do you like it?" he asked. She nodded and he smiled a little. "Well, then, I guarantee you can afford it on your salary." He let go of her hand and gestured. "Come on."

She glanced into the large bedroom, noticing doors to what must be an American-style built-in closet at one end and an en-suite at the other, and followed Jack into the lounge. He sat down in one of the armchairs, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. She sat down on a wooden chair across from him, looking around the simply-furnished room, which was bright with afternoon sunshine.

"These are my rules," Jack said. "I need to know where you are at all times." He pointed up at a small camera, light blinking red, in a corner of the room. "There's one in every room except the bathroom. Don't try to turn them off or obscure them, in fact, don't touch them at all." He sat back slowly, watching her. She glanced up at the camera, then nodded.

"Understandable. But what if I want to go out for a drink or something?"

"Then you can," Jack said. "But I still need to know where you are. That's why I have this." He pulled out a small case and opened it, angling it to allow her to see what was inside. At the sight of the long, wicked hypodermic syringe she blinked and shuddered.

"What's that?"

"Injectable tracking device. I give you a little shot, I can keep tabs on you no matter where you are."

"Alien technology?"

"Entirely human, actually. GPS tracking."

"Huh," Tosh said. "Okay. You should know that I really don't have plans to run off."

"Oh, I believe you," Jack said. "But you have to prove it. Once I'm satisfied, I'll remove the cameras and disconnect the tracker."

"I will." She shifted slightly in the chair. "Are you going to inject me with that thing now?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "Sorry." He set the case down on the coffee table between them, stood up and removed his coat, laying it down across the chair he'd vacated. Rolling up a sleeve, he removed the syringe from the case. "This is going to hurt. Can you just take off the top of that suit for me, please?"

Underneath the red UNIT-issue suit, she wasn't wearing anything. She hesitated for a second, then unbuttoned it. It was filthy, she hadn't noticed before quite how very dirty it was and how sore she felt. Dropping it carefully to the ground, she stood up, angling her body carefully away from Jack. "Where does the injection go?"

"Turn around, that's it," he said, brushing her hair away from her neck. "Breathe in, and brace yourself on the chair." She took hold of the chair back, pulling it toward her.

The injection, when it came after a long pause, was to the back of her neck and felt like liquid fire was running down her spine. She let out a gasping scream, squeezing the chair so hard she felt her knuckles crack. Breathless and panting, she felt herself start to go limp. Jack caught her around the waist, pulling her up again.

"I'm sorry," he said, pressed against her, "but you have to stay standing. Just another moment."

When the pain faded after another long pause, Tosh felt utterly drained. She couldn't bring herself to care that she was standing there half-naked with a stranger's arm around her waist. She just wanted to be clean and to go to sleep.

"I'm okay," she whispered. Jack let her go, and she snatched the top of the suit off the floor, but just covered herself with it rather than putting it back on again. She turned to face Jack.

"Just a few more things," Jack said, "then you can get some sleep." He paused. "I'll be by to pick you up tomorrow morning, half eight. There's a few clothes and shoes in your closet, toiletries in the bathroom, some food in the kitchen." He looked down at her and she realised that he was perfectly aware just how exhausted she felt and was trying to get this over with as quickly as he could. "Table in the hall, there's a wallet with your bank card, chequebook, passport, driving licence, and some cash. Also a mobile and a laptop. Bring all that with you tomorrow." He fumbled in his pocket. "These are your keys."

Numbly, she took the keys from him, realising how much work he must have done before he ever came to get her out. He must have been very sure of her.

"Jack," she said carefully, as he turned to leave. "Thank you. For everything."

He looked back at her, a genuine smile lighting up his features for the first time. "Toshiko Sato," he said. "You're welcome."

* * *

Two weeks later Tosh was crawling into bed, clean and warm, after a long day at Torchwood. For the first time, she thought, she could say she'd literally saved the world. Exhausted but on an emotional high unlike anything she'd ever felt before, she almost instinctively slid her hands down her body as she lay in bed, across her breasts. And something woke up inside her, something she'd forgotten to miss. She was desperately, unbelievably, turned on.

She glanced toward the camera in the corner of the room. Something a little wild seemed to take possession of her and Jack's face flashed across her mind, Jack standing at the door of her cell, like an angel come to rescue her, Jack today, pulling her into a triumphant hug as the code worked. With a smile, she switched on the lamp beside her bed, and wriggled out of the shirt and underwear she usually slept in. Kicking her blankets to the foot of the bed, she slid her hands over her breasts again, working her thumbs over the nipples. She paused to lick her thumbs, then deliberately, carefully, swirled them around her nipples again, bringing them to stiff peaks. Head back, she moaned aloud at the feel of this, so alive, so needy. Her legs fell open, angled toward the camera.

By the time she touched her cunt, she was already wet and wanting more than just hands. But there were only hands available. Making a firm resolution to order some sex toys the next chance she got, she pushed two fingers into herself, touching her clit gently with the other hand. She was swollen and aching, thrusting the fingers in, pulling them out, rocking against the finger on her clit.

Tosh usually liked to draw this out, but this time it wasn't going to happen. Months of frustration took their toll and she was coming, rhythm staggered and broken, abandoned, writhing. She forgot about cameras, forgot about Jack, about everything except this and the slick feeling of her hand on herself. When she brought her hands up several moments later, she laughed to herself and licked them clean, squirming gently on the bed, lost in the feel of the clean sheets and the warmth and the safety.

Smiling bright, she blew a kiss to the camera, hugging herself luxuriously. She drifted gently, half-asleep but aware the light was still on, for a moment. Then the phone rang.

She glanced at the camera. Who else could it possibly be?

"Toshiko, Toshiko!" Jack's voice said, laughing but a little breathlessly aroused around the edges, and she could almost feel him shaking his head in amusement.

"Like what you saw?" she said softly.

"Very much," and the amusement faded out of his voice, the arousal taking over. She could almost picture him, at his desk, intense Jack looking at her on the video feed, opening his trousers and touching himself to her little show.

"I could do it again," she said and to prove it, slid her hand down herself again, dipping into her cunt, still wet and swollen from before. Jack gasped on the line.

"Yeah," he said, almost sharply. "Oh, Tosh, yeah."

* * *

Things went on that way for a long time. Every few nights, if it had been a good day and the Rift wasn't active, she'd crawl into bed, pull off what she was wearing and kick the blankets down. Then she'd deliberately look up at the camera and do something provocative, like suck on a finger or trace a hand around her breast. Jack would call moments later, and they'd have a few minutes of breathing down the phone at each other, making provocative remarks and masturbating together. Her eyes would squeeze shut at the end, imagining him watching her, hearing his voice wash over her as he came. They never discussed it at work, but she'd catch hints of memories in the way he looked at her every now and again, an intense searing look that would make her shut her eyes with arousal right there at her workstation or in his office.

The first time he called her Tosh at work she glanced up sharply, but he didn't seem to notice. Soon Suzie was calling her Tosh too, and then it was just a nickname she had.

A year after she first started at Torchwood, Owen arrived, all grief-desperate and ragged round the edges. She couldn't help it. It was love at first sight. The first time she masturbated after that, it was in the dark, pjs on, not looking toward the camera, no Jack, thinking of Owen.

The next morning, a day off for her, Jack showed up at her door, bringing fruit and bagels. "Hey," he said. "We should talk."

"So I don't know what to do," she said, once they were sitting at the breakfast table together and she was almost done with her fruit. She wasn't worried about consequences to her job, really, she knew Jack well enough now to know that he was a decent human being and wouldn't hold this against her. Not like they ever really had anything anyway except a few phone calls.

"I'm going to remove the cameras," Jack said. "You've more than proved yourself, Tosh."

"And the tracker?"

He laughed. "Deactivated that six months ago."

"Ah," she said, realising. He'd left the cameras in because of their phone calls, not because he didn't trust her. She looked at him, deliberately, willing herself to say it. "I don't regret it, not a bit, but we have to stop."

"I figured," he said. "Didn't think about that when I hired Owen, but I'm not really surprised. It was always a risk." He stood up, taking his plate to the sink, then walking over to the camera in the kitchen, turning it off, and pulling it gently from the wall. He set it down on the kitchen table and left the room. Tosh sat silent, listening to him walking around the flat, collecting cameras. It was the end of something fragile and beautiful that never really got a chance, Tosh thought, and for a moment she wished Owen had never come to Torchwood.

He was disconnecting the final one, in the bedroom, when she got up, walked over, stood next to him. He turned to look at her. "Friends, yeah?" he said.

"Absolutely," she answered. He bent and kissed her on the forehead, then left the room. She leaned back against the wall, fighting a strange urge to cry. It was so weird to be in love with two people at the same time. But her feelings for Jack were all tangled up with a strange mixture of hero-worship and the knowledge that he held her life in his hands. She covered her face and stood there alone, until the front door shut behind Jack. At least she knew, when it came to Owen, it was only love, untainted, pure.

* * *

Six months later, she called Jack, sitting on her bed, fully dressed. It had been a horrific day, too many people dead. She had no one else to turn to.

"Jack," she said when he answered. "Can we just…?"

She didn't even know what she was asking for, but somehow Jack did. "My brave soldier," he said. "My brilliant genius. I'm so glad I saved you."

She smiled faintly. "Why do you always know exactly what to say?"

He laughed gently. "Because I always say what I feel. To you, at least." He paused, taking a breath. "And because not enough people tell you how amazing you are."

She blushed. "Jack. Thank you," she whispered, and ended the call.

* * *

The night after Suzie shot herself, Tosh couldn't sleep, too many memories keeping her awake. She sat up in bed, grabbed her phone, and called Jack. He answered immediately. He wasn't sleeping either.

"Why does Torchwood do this to people, Tosh?" he asked, and his voice sounded forlorn and faraway. She glanced guiltily at the Reader on her bookshelf.

"No one ever joins Torchwood because they want a normal life," Tosh told him. "We need to change things, to help, to save, to improve what little bits we can of the world. And sometimes we lose sight of reality in our desire to do that."

"Yeah," Jack sighed. "By the way, there are some pieces of tech missing. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them?"

She glanced over at the Reader again. It would be so easy to lie, to blame it on Ianto or Owen, or Suzie herself, to plant the evidence elsewhere. But she couldn't lie to Jack.

"I have the Reader," she said. "I'll bring it back tomorrow. I'm sorry."

"Please do," Jack said, without the expected anger. "An alien PDA is hardly going to kill us all, but I think you can understand why you shouldn't take these things home."

"I can. I did. I took it anyway. Now I don't even want to touch it."

"Good," Jack breathed. "By the way. I hired Gwen."

"Oh," Tosh said. "Good."

Jack took a breath, then paused. "Go to sleep, my beautiful Tosh. Go to sleep."

She felt like she could, then. "Goodnight, Jack," she whispered. She could hear him turning, bedsprings creaking a little, and realised he was in bed as well. "You should go to sleep too."

"I think I will," he said softly. And then all she heard was breathing, slow and steady, for a long time. She slid down under the blankets and listened to him, not saying anything, until she fell asleep. In the morning, she found the phone next to her in bed.

* * *

She couldn't save Owen, in the end. Couldn't even save herself. It was five years since she left the holding cell for the last time, and she was dying, just when her time was up. She'd often wondered, in the first few months, what she would do when her five years was up. But she only got as far as "go see her mother". Then back to Torchwood. It was home, it was where she belonged.

Everything was going numb. She felt Jack lifting her, holding her in his arms, and met his eyes. She could read his face, filled with gratitude, grief, and love. She clung to him with her eyes, everything else fading.

There was only Jack in the world now, the focus, the centre. And she was his, not because he'd given her back her life, but because she loved him. Love didn't care about power imbalances, relationship statuses, or debts owed. She loved him, that was all. And with her final breath, as he gazed down at her, she realised something else: he loved her. _My brave soldier, my beautiful Tosh, my brilliant genius. I'm so glad I saved you._

"Thank you, Jack," she tried to murmur, and faded into the darkness.


End file.
